Edsel
by Wolf of the Seas
Summary: Inspired by the true story of Specialist-4 Edgar McWethy, Jr., who earned the Congressional Medal of Honor for gallant actions above and beyond the call of duty during the Vietnam War in 1967. This is the short, bittersweet story of a young medic, his son who must live without a father, and a cherry red Edsel that connects the two together from across time.


_When he was seventeen, William Gordon was given a car he absolutely adored: the red 1958 Edsel that his father had bought when it was fresh from the factory. Will had practically fallen in love with this car as he did with his future wife, for all it took was one day and a lucky man like him._

 _Then came the Vietnam War…_

 _He was practically snatched up by the government and trained to be a combat medic for the war effort. But every day that he was away, he thought back to his Edsel, and dreamed of himself, his wife, and their soon-to-be-born son all cruising in the magnificently beautiful car. He often saw himself and his son scrubbing the dirt and grime off of his cherished heirloom, and the close bond between them sewn by that chromed treasure._

 _But when the battle started, his mind turned to face the darkness and cruelty of his enemies and jumped feet first into the blazing fray of gunfire to save the lives of his brothers in arms. He locked away all of his selfish fantasies and memories and concentrated on the wounded men whose cries for help he had answered. "Braveheart" Gordon was always out there keeping his squad alive, and had rightfully earned his nickname with all honors due._

 _But one rainy day, his squad would be sent out into enemy territory to rescue survivors from a Huey that had been shot down, he set forth not knowing that he wouldn't come home. His platoon of thirty-six men set out into the ghostly-grey thundershowers of the merciless wilderness, and were almost immediately being picked off like flies. His fellow grunts were killed brutally left and right as each had stepped into a trap laid out by the Vietcong. Pungi sticks, logs carved and set to be impaling battering rams, spiked nets, and all sorts of savage instruments of torturous death were sprung._

 _By the time the survivors reached the clearing, twenty-one of the thirty-six remained._

 _Then they found the wreckage, amidst which they only found one lone survivor. He was a marine. He told Captain Jones, the platoon leader, what had happened, and all Cap could do was take off his helmet and stare at the crashed debris, the crying clouds pouring down their silver tears on his war-torn head._

 _Then the enemy attacked._

 _Instantly, the thicket of the dancing rain that was nearly impossible to see through had lit up like a well-oiled candle as a hundred weapons fired from every direction, killing eight more men and wounding two. One of those two men had fallen into the oily stream that had flowed from the wreckage and all about the scarred clearing. All it took was one grenade to set off the blackened mud._

 _With one enormous breath, the area was shrouded by a ravenous wall of blazing flames, hungry at the first taste of blood. Its first innocent meal was the poor grunt, who screamed in pain as he was incinerated by the raging furnace._

 _Then Private Ryan went down, and Will had rushed over to pull him away from their attackers, ignoring four viscous gunshots to his chest and head. After saving Ryan, William rushed to rescue the Captain, who had resorted to using a circular piece of metal as a weapon. He was struck down while carrying the Captain as two more shots bolted through his leg and hip._

 _Still, he drove on and ignored the pleas of his dying body._

 _Will brought the Captain to safety, then collapsed as his body began to succumb to his mortal wounds. The brutish battle blurred as he gazed upon the horrifying scene._  
 _He watched the marine as he had been consumed with insanity while he tore through the angered berserkers before being dismembered._

 _He witnessed Corporal Stark get sawed in half by an enemy machine gun._

 _And all he could do was sit there and watch as his friends were killed, one by one._

 _As the bloodthirsty battle was about to swallow up William and the other five remaining men, they were rescued by a medevac chopper, escorted by a pair of Cobras whose many deadly missiles and bullets ripped away at the Vietcong to clear a safe landing zone for the Slick. The flight medics hauled them all out in quick haste and headed back toward the firebase that was several miles out._

 _As the surgeons tried to keep him alive, Will spoke his last words to the Captain._

 _"Remember the sacrifice of those brave boys, and of my sacrifice, when you come home. When they ask you what it was like, tell them that we were soldiers, that each man did his duty, and that all went to the last full measure to do so."_

 _Having said this, he closed his eyes. His last thoughts were of him and his family strolling through the Tennessee countryside in his cherished red Edsel. He then leaped into the Loving Arms of Jesus and came Home, leaving behind the murderous hell that the war had become._

 _His death struck the men in that helicopter like a jagged rock as they burst into a sea of blackened tears. They had lost a brother whose indomitable courage saved their lives and let them live another dark day at the cost of his own._

* * *

Now, the ember-red Edsel, sitting in Will's old garage as it waits for its most beloved friend, is covered in dust by the time my mother opens the door that had been sealed off years ago. As the sunlight pours in like a golden flashflood, I gaze in amazement upon the ever-glistening beauty, as if the years of dust didn't even phase her. I am given the rusted keys, and I open the door to inspect the well-preserved, glossy white interior. I open the chrome glove-box and discover a letter, addressed to me. It's from William.

As I open it, a Congressional Medal of Honor drops into my lap. Stunned, I investigate further and find his last will. The message reads:

 _"Dear Son,_  
 _I realize that I might not get to spend time with you, and therefore leave you the keys to the car that I have loved all of these years. Take good care of her, my boy, and love her as much as I have. As long as this Edsel is with you, I am as well._  
 _From, Dad."_

Struck hard by these words, I look to my mother, now realizing why she never let me into this sacred garage. She nods at me, knowing how much the love-deprived Edsel was ushering for me to take the wheel. As if he had taken over my body, I watch as he made my trembling hands turn the key in the ignition, and feel him kick my shivering feet down to press the pedal. As we leave the driveway, I steer towards the rising moon and cruise through the rolling Tennessee hills in a car that suddenly came to life at my fingertips. I look to the passenger seat, and can almost see his grinning silhouette riding beside me, encouraging me to drive on. I nod, returning my gaze to the gravely road, rising and falling with the ever-changing land, as the old fades away for the new.

"Thanks, Dad. I promise I'll hold her so tight that the winds of change themselves will not break us apart."

I shift into top gear, and push the Edsel to her untouched limits. She soars down the country road without a care in the world, knowing that she has finally found her destined driver. The spectacular sunset gazes down on the three of us as we bound care-free into the bumpy road that leads to the radiant horizon ahead.


End file.
